Dragon Age:Origins Shattered
by Bettycake
Summary: As Laria Surana is saved by Duncan, of The Grey Wardens, from a terrible fate at the hands of one she trusted, her life is changed forever. A good soul is forced to question her own nature as she takes on the weight of the world and learns of life, and love, outside The Circle. Romances involving, Cullen, Duncan and Alistair. ADULT CONTENT!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Welcome to the first chapter of my Dragon Age:Origins - romantic fan-fiction. This is my alternative telling of the story of my currant play-through of the game, with my currant Warden, Laria of the Elf-Mage origin. The story, as written here, generally follows the progression of the actual game but with some subtle, and sometimes not so subtle differences from my own imagination. Most is game-cannon but, as you will soon see, it deviates from that at various points. I have avoided using game script as I wanted to put my own stamp on the spoken parts. The general gist of the game speech is there but I've used my own words, for the most part. WARNING: This story is definitely adult in nature and certainly in this chapter, covers some themes that some readers may find uncomfortable, possibly offensive. I have rated it accordingly.**

**I welcome ALL feedback and would love to hear your views, so please say hi and tell me what you think. Thank you for reading.**

Laria was an elf, and a mage, and a woman. Had she not spent the majority of her life confined within the walls of the Ferelden Circle of Magi, her life may have been much harder. The lot of Elves across Thedas was generally a difficult one, to say the least. Apostate mages spent each day looking over their shoulder, living on constant alert for Templars, or anyone that may wish to turn in a potential malificarum. And women, well overall women didn't fair too badly in most aspects of their lives. They held high-ranking positions within armies, were welcomed as leaders along with their male counterparts and even ran the Chantry with little involvement from men at all. However, they were still vulnerable in certain situations. An Elven female even more so.  
So, Laria was grateful for the life she had the luxury to lead. Where her peers in the circle spent hours bemoaning the injustices of being 'caged' as they were, she tolerated the scrutiny of the Templars, even when their attention was more than a little 'inappropriate' at times. Some judged all members of the order by the actions of the few, but Laria was not like that. She saw the wrong in tarring all of a single group with the same brush, after all, hadn't that very behaviour been applied to Mages throughout history?  
One Templar in particular was considered by Laria worthy of such trust. She had known Cullen for many years. He was a bit older than she was; she'd been little more than a child when he'd taken up his first assignment among the Templars stationed within the Circle. He'd simply been a face in the crowd at first, albeit a handsome face. Growing into her emotions as she was, he had soon caught her eye. However, she'd had no one to talk to about her new feelings and had locked them away for fear The Maker may strike her down for her fantasies. As she grew into womanhood, she found herself once more confronted by her attraction to him, only this time it appeared the feeling was mutual. Honourable as he was, Cullen would never have allowed himself to think about a teenage girl that way, and he too had buried his desire. He wasn't that much older but she was just a girl and he would never take advantage of his position of authority over her. Eventually he could deny his attraction to her no longer. Over the years, she had grown from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman. Her slender elven figure seemed to move so gracefully along the corridors of the tower. Many times, he'd be standing guard, almost falling asleep with boredom, when the floral scent of her perfume had drifted ahead of her, notifying him of her imminent presence. He'd almost slid down the wall as his knees had threatened to buckle beneath him. Maker she was the most beautiful creature he had ever known. Her raven coloured hair caressed every curve of her neck, shoulders and back as it came to rest at her slim waist, so soft that the urge to reach out and touch it almost overwhelmed him. Laria always had time for Cullen; she would present him with the warm open smile he was so familiar with he saw it even with his eyes closed. Then they would talk for as long as their respective duties allowed; snatched moments in time that each began to long for when they were apart. Laria was well liked among the mages of the Ferelden circle; her affable nature endeared her to all but the most hardhearted. However, she'd only ever had one real friend her whole life. Jowan had been brought to the Circle only months before her and they'd become firm friends almost immediately. Other than her feelings for Cullen, she could tell him anything. Sadly, for all their closeness, she knew telling Jowan she'd fallen for a Templar would be information even he may have trouble hearing from her. He hated life in the circle and he hated the Templars for beings the jailors in their prison.  
Cullen was also her friend though, and they conversed about anything and everything. Late at night when they were certain even the Templars on guard duty were snoring, they would retreat to a shadowy alcove where they would hold hands and bathe in each other's presence. Once it seemed that they would kiss for the first time. Their faces hovered achingly close for what seemed like an age, the desire between them sparking at the proximity of their lips. But, at the last moment, something passed across Cullen's face and he had pulled away with sadness in his eyes. Laria had searched his expression for a reason but had found none. Their bond had weakened after that. Still she would smile at him as she passed by in the corridors, still his heart missed a beat when her perfume heralded her approach. But gone were the secret meetings and the hours of putting the world to rights. And, with quiet acceptance, Laria had never questioned why. Perhaps, deep down she knew, but nothing would ever change their circumstances and, ever the optimist, she denied herself a period of mourning over a lost love and faced each new day as she always had, with vigour and hope.

* * *

As the time approached for Laria to take her harrowing, she threw herself into perfecting her spells, honing her technique until the other apprentices could only look on in wonder. She was fast gaining a reputation for her magical ability. Her skill, along with her obvious strength of character left few with any doubts about her ability to survive the trials presented to every apprentice as they came of age. To most, it would have been a surprise had she not come through unscathed. That was one mage no one expected to turn up Tranquil after an unexplained absence. It was with this in mind that Cullen took his place amongst the Templars in the Harrowing chamber. He was to be charged with taking the killing blow should the worst happen, should Laria be overpowered by the Demon she was to be set against. It was all he could do not to burst into tears at the thought of his lovely Laria becoming an abomination, even worse the thought that he may have to end her life. However, those fears were kept at bay by the knowledge that if anyone could face the worst and come out on top, still smiling, it was she. The woman he had come to love would not be controlled by any Demon, more likely the Demon would be dealt a double whammy by her courage and beauty, falling crumpled and helpless at her feat, as he had. Cullen was still smiling to himself at this thought when Laria entered the Harrowing Chamber.

Two hours later and Laria was being shaken from a restless slumber by Jowan. Reality flooded in, quickly replacing the warped and faded images previously filling her mind. She wasn't sure where the harrowing had ended and the dreams began but, sitting bolt upright on the edge of her bed, she pushed the twisted scenes into the closet of her mind and turned the key in the lock. From the way her surroundings were properly in focus and there was still an intact ceiling above her head, she assumed she'd completed her harrowing. Jowan was full of questions of course. Much as she loved him, they were questions she could not answer. The rules of the circle strictly prohibited any newly harrowed mage from discussing the events of the ordeal with an un-harrowed apprentice. It pained her to see her friend's dejected expression. Putting her arms around him, she felt him tremble and heard his voice break as he conveyed to her his fears about being made tranquil. He was on the verge of tears as he opened up to her about his belief that it was not the intention of the Templars or the First Enchanter to put him through the harrowing, that instead they planned on subjecting him to the right of tranquillity.  
Apparently, a rumour about him had been circulating. There was talk among the mages that he was a blood mage, so he said. Laria had never been privy to such talk, but then their friendship was common knowledge, so perhaps others would not have spoken of it freely in her presence. Whatever had been said, she hugged Jowan tighter and tried to reassure him with soothing words. She was his friend, if anyone knew him she did. He was no blood mage and Laria promised him she'd take it up with anyone she found spreading such flights of fancy.  
Shrugging off his woeful demeanour, a little too easily, Jowan changed the subject and informed Laria that the First Enchanter wanted to see her as soon as possible. Then he was gone leaving her to ponder on what she would say to the next person she heard spreading such spiteful rumours about her friend. Laria rarely got angry, her nature being a generally placid one. However, that all changed when someone she cared about was hurt. That she would not tolerate. Having had few people in her life that she could have called 'close', she was fiercely loyal and protective to those that held that position in her heart. Well, she mused to herself, she had better not keep the First Enchanter waiting. Presumably, he simply wanted to congratulate her on successfully passing her harrowing and formally welcome her into the circle as a fully-fledged mage. What was the urgency then?

* * *

There were three men in First Enchanter Irving's office when Laria entered. Irving himself was having what appeared to be a disagreement with Knight Commander Greagoir, nothing new there. The third man had his back to Laria, but from what she could see, he was a warrior of some kind. Two blades were strapped to his back and he wore ornate silver coloured armour, though not Templar issue, so not one of those then. His ebony hair was drawn back into a short ponytail and she could just make out golden hoops hanging from his ears. For all his adornment however, the first thing that stood out, as she appraised the man, was just how broad he was. Those shoulders must be two and a half times as wide as mine, she thought. His armour wasn't even as heavy as Greagoir's, so that width was mainly body. Laria suddenly felt light-headed. Composing herself she shifted uncomfortably as she realised she'd been fantasising about a man she'd only seen from behind. With her face still feeling flushed as she stood in the open doorway of the First Enchanters office, she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her as the dark haired stranger seemed to sense her presence and turned to look in her direction. Maker, who was this man? The face that met hers was swarthy skinned and carried a distinguished look that had a rather unnerving effect on the increasingly uncomfortable elf. His age was apparent by the lines on his tanned skin, yet his dark brown eyes glistened with something Laria had never seen, even in men half his age. There was a youthfulness there that she felt sure would always remain, no matter how far his years advanced. As if the stranger empathised with her awkwardness, he smiled at Laria, a warm, contagious smile that softened the hard features of his pointed nose and chiselled jaw. She couldn't help herself and smiled back at him as he announced her arrival to his companions.  
"I believe someone is here to see you First Enchanter" The man's voice was deep and smooth, like honey it drizzled over the words.  
Irving, obviously pleased to be distracted from his argument with the Knight Commander, walked over to Laria and guided her into the room, his hand resting against the small of her back. Irving had been the closest thing to a father Laria had ever known. She always respected him and as he offered her a smile that beamed with pride, she felt the first rush of joy at getting through her harrowing since she'd woken in the dormitory.  
Standing before Irving and the dark haired man, she was surprised to hear the words that the latter uttered next.  
"This is she?" He had been told of her then?  
"Yes, this is she" Irving confirmed both that she was, indeed, 'she' and that they had almost certainly been discussing her.  
"You obviously have matters to attend to Irving. We will finish our… discussion, another time" With that, Greagoir left the room, a look of disgruntlement emblazoned across his face.  
"My child, congratulations on passing your harrowing. Allow me to formally welcome you as a mage within the circle of Magi. We were all highly impressed by the swiftness with which you completed the trial. I think you will find you are the talk of the tower for some time to come my dear." Irving chuckled as he noticed the flash of embarrassment that crossed Laria's face.  
"Ah, humble as ever I see." It was true, Laria had never enjoyed being the centre of attention, she didn't feel worthy of any special behaviour around her, no matter what she'd achieved. She had realized many personal goals in her life but her success was no more deserving of praise or special acknowledgement than any of her fellows, and she was sure there were others in the world achieving far more, against far worse odds than she ever had.  
"Duncan, allow me to present to you our newest circle mage. Laria, this is Duncan of the Grey Wardens"  
Well, that explained the armour then. Laria had heard of the Wardens of course. Ferelden's history had been on the non-magical curriculum of study and The Grey Wardens merited a mention or two. If this was an example of the warriors within the order, it was no wonder they had managed to drive back the Darkspawn time and again. With those shoulders, Laria had a vision of this Duncan simply charging at the hoard backwards. Damnation, what would it take to stop focusing on his shoulders?  
As Duncan began to explain about the approaching Darkspawn hoard, the need for more mages to assist against them and his search for new Warden recruits, it seemed his shoulders were easier to ignore than she had at first thought. His refined voice was almost like a lullaby, putting her at ease and holding her attention even when she had no clue what he was talking about.  
Finally, Duncan announced his intent to retire to his room.  
"Child, would you kindly escort Duncan to his accommodation. You will find your staff and mage robes in your new quarters, if you haven't done so already. Duncan, we will talk more later. It was good to see you again old friend." He clasped one of the Warden's large calloused hands in his, Duncan placing his other hand reciprocally at the top of the hand-pile, and nodded farewell at the man he obviously knew well. With that, the First Enchanter turned his attention to a selection of open tomes scattered across his desk, leaving Laria to look up at Duncan, her awkwardness returning now his gaze was directed solely at her.  
Without another word, she turned on her heels and led Duncan from Irving's office and out into the curved corridor that would take them to the guest rooms. With the colour returning to her cheeks, Laria was relieved to have cause to face a completely different direction from Duncan's intense gaze. Though now she could feel his eyes boring into her back, the heat of their scrutiny almost palpable. Laria, for all her beauty was completely unaware of the effect she had on men. She had only ever known the affections of one man, Cullen, and that had been a meeting of souls. Presumably, he found her not unpleasant to look at but their relationship had gone deeper than physical attraction. It had simply never occurred to Laria that anyone would look at her as anything more than a female elf. It was partly that innocence that had Duncan enthralled. How could someone so amazing be so humble? Even without her looks, her soul shone through. It was as if she was lit up from the inside, glowing like a beacon, dazzling all those that came close to its light. In his youth, he would have thought nothing of charming the delightful woman walking ahead of him into the nearest bed. Now, he simply admired her beauty as a poet does the wonders of nature. At least, that is what he kept trying to tell himself. But, he was still a man, even if time was no longer stretching out before him. Was it truly so wrong to look upon her delicate features, her soft olive skin and imagine more than conversation? Of course it was. He needed to remember his status. He was Commander of the Grey in Ferelden and as such held a position of responsibility. He had a duty to protect and he would be damned if that duty didn't extend to protecting this beautiful elven woman from his own primal urges.  
Laria reached the room where Duncan was to spend the night and reluctantly turned to direct him inside. Moving toward the doorway, he was suddenly within touching distance, his spicy aroma filling her nostrils and making her shiver as it assaulted her senses.  
"Thank you for showing me to my room Laria" he said, his tone reflecting a sincerity that seemed a little out of place. It seemed he'd been about to say something else but had settled on gratitude at the last moment.  
"You are welcome Ser" She'd almost used his name, wanting to speak it aloud the way he had hers, but she held back. It would have been inappropriate and possibly disrespectful and many other bad things. Exchanging a last look into each other's eyes, they both turned away and headed in opposite directions, leaving something hanging in the air. It was probably for the best, they both thought as the door closed between them.

* * *

Laria had been getting acquainted with her new quarters barely more than five minutes when Jowan appeared just outside the doorway, looking fidgety and beckoning for her to go into the corridor outside the room. Once with him it was impossible not to see the look of anguish in his eyes.  
"What is it Jowan, what's wrong? Has someone else said something? Tell me who, I'll put them straight."  
"No, no it's not that it's… look I need to talk to you about… something."  
"Jowan you are worrying me now. What is it?"  
Jowan's eyes darted up and down the corridor.  
"Not here, it's not… safe to talk here. Please come with me." His eyes pleading with his friend to trust him, Laria wrestled her unease to the back of her mind and allowed Jowan to take her arm in his as he silently led her through the corridors that spiralled around the tower until finally they reached the Circle's Chapel. Once inside he stopped them both when they found a young initiate who appeared to have been waiting for someone. As Jowan let go of Laria's arm and took his place by the initiate's side everything fell into place. Even before he went on to tell her about their relationship, Laria had guessed. It hadn't been that hard. The looks they gave each other where laced with an affection she was all too familiar with. Lilly, the initiate went to explain the rest, the reason for the tormented look that had become etched almost permanently on Jowan's face lately.  
Laria had to restrain herself from gasping out loud, as she learnt of her friend's fate. It seemed his assumptions had been more than the normal paranoia he was occasionally prone to. Lilly had discovered documents signed by both Irving and Greagoir, authorizing Jowan to undertake the rite of tranquillity. Some fool notion about him being a blood mage had grown wings and found its way to the attention of the circle's authority figures. Though why they had believed it was beyond Laria's comprehension. Yes, Jowan could be a little… odd, and yes, sometimes he came across as behaving suspiciously, but that was just him, no more than eccentric character traits. Going from that to blood magic was quite a leap, even for Templars.  
"I'll talk to the First Enchanter." Laria suggested enthusiastically.  
"NO!" Jowan firmly put that idea where he felt it belonged.  
"But he likes me Jowan, he might respect my opinion enough to change his mind, revoke his consent. I'm your friend I've known you all my life. He will trust in that, I know he will."  
"NO!" Lilly repeated his command. "No one can know that we know of this. Please if you really care about Jowan, if you really want to help us…"  
"I do, Jowan you are the closest thing I have to family, you know I'd do anything for you"  
Jowan and Lilly exchanged looks and their pained expressions seemed to ease at Laria's promise. Without further discussion they told her of their plan to seek out and destroy Jowan's phylactery, allowing them both to flee the Circle and start a new life together, far away from the circle, perhaps even from Ferelden.

* * *

Jowan's phylactery now lay in a thousand splintered pieces, amidst a small pool of his blood on the floor of the phylactery chamber. Getting to the room had been the tricky part. Finding and destroying Jowan's leash to the circle had been simple. Now as Laria, Jowan and Lilly made their way towards the beginning of the lover's freedom; all three were in high spirits. Lilly and Jowan held hands, the delight at knowing their dream of a life together was within their grasp evident in the twinkle in their eyes and the spring in their steps. Laria was just happy to see her friend smile again. It seemed so long since he had done so. A small part of her questioned the sense in what the couple were about to embark upon but it was almost immediately hushed by the warm feeling inside when she saw how much they truly loved each other. She may have broken the rules of the only place she'd ever called home, but it was worth it. She would never forget these last moments they shared together. She was sad that this was probably going to be the last time they saw each other, and she knew the hurt at losing a friend would strike with a vengeance later, when she was alone, but right now, she laughed because he laughed and that would do.  
They were still laughing and chatting when they pushed open the huge doors that led up from the basement onto the ground floor. So caught up in their revelry were they that they didn't notice First Enchanter Irving and a Templar standing mere feet away between them and the exit.  
"So, our suspicions have been proven correct Jowan" Irving's raspy voice echoed around the room as he stepped forward, Templar in toe, towards the now silent trio. Laria's happy mood fizzled out almost immediately as Irving's look changed from anger to disappointment as his eyes landed on her. This was bad, very bad. She was about to attempt to explain when Jowan positioned himself in front of both Laria and Lilly.  
"You can do what you like to me First Enchanter, but please, leave Laria and Lilly out of this"  
"I'm afraid it's far too late for that Jowan. You have committed treason against the circle and this young initiate has made a mockery of her vows. Both of you will be dealt with as the Circle and the Chantry sees fit. As for you Laria, I am deeply disappointed in you."  
That was all Laria needed to hear. A tear formed in her eye as she burned beneath the scathing look of the elder mage.  
Directing the Templar off to fetch the Knight Commander, Irving took steps towards Lilly, presumably with the intention of separating the pair before they could make a run for it. However, he took only one-step before Jowan saw red.  
"NO!" he shouted, "I won't let you take her."  
To Laria's alarm, he then revealed a small knife. Looming unnaturally tall, her friend took on a look that she had never witnessed within him before. With not so much as a backward glance he slashed the blade across his wrists, the blood gushing out like a fountain from the his self-induced injuries. All three spectators could only look on in horror as, with the blood, the magic poured out. Its blackness could be felt in each person present but there was no time to react. With not even a moment left to grasp her staff, a blast of magical energy exploded from Jowan's body, slamming into Irving, propelling him like a rag doll across the room. With the First Enchanter unconscious, Jowan turned to Lilly, his blood stained hand outstretched towards her.  
"Come Lilly, we need to leave, now!" He smiled at her almost as if the events of the last few seconds hadn't happened. Lilly backed away, her expression one of abject fear as she took in the twisted feature of the man she loved.  
"Blood magic!" She spat "Jowan, you told me the rumours were lies, that you'd never turn to blood magic. How could you?"  
Jowan's smile faded, a look of realisation spread across his face. Suddenly he was simply Jowan again, the aura of dark energy that had surrounded him gone, leaving just a week, pathetic man in its place.  
"Lilly, I never… I only dabbled, I…"  
"NO! Blood magic is evil Jowan. I trusted you. I loved you. Now I don't even know who you are anymore."  
The pain in Lilly's eyes was mirrored on Jowan's face. He knew at that moment that he'd lost her forever, the ties between them severed by his betrayal. With that, he turned from both women and ran.  
Laria had been paralysed in stunned silence throughout. As her best friend ran from the tower, she could only stumble through the maelstrom of emotions and confused thoughts swirling around her mind. The tears had started to flow freely almost without her knowledge. Her heart ached as it echoed Lilly's anguished feeling of betrayal. She had trusted him, defended him, and turned against all that she knew for him. And now he was gone, without even saying goodbye… or sorry.  
Pulling herself together, Laria took stock of the situation. Her characteristic resilience taking over in the face of all adversity. She needed to think, there would be time for tears and tantrums later. Irving was still out cold some distance away. Lilly was sobbing quietly with her face in her hands. Laria's heart went out to her. She had lost enough in the last few minutes; if Laria could do anything, she wasn't going to let the poor woman face the wrath of the Templars as well. Taking the initiate's hands in her own she lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.  
"Lilly, listen to me. You need to go, now. The Templars will be here any moment"  
A look of defiance replaced the sorrow in Lilly's eyes, her body stiffened beneath Laria's touch.  
"I will not run."  
"But Lilly, you will be punished for this. You should not have to answer for Jowan's behaviour. I won't allow it."  
"You've been a good friend Laria, to both of us, but I've already made one mistake that will change my life forever, I'm not about to make another."  
After a moments pause Laria nodded her acceptance and watched as Lilly slowly walked away in the direction of the Chapel. A broken woman, Laria felt the destruction of her soul as if it were her own.  
A low moan suddenly alerted Laria to the return to consciousness of the First Enchanter. She ran over to him, kneeling beside her mentor, concern expressed in both her touch and her eyes.  
"First Enchanter, are you OK?"  
The elder mage allowed the elf to help him stand. He dusted himself down while Laria scanned him for obvious injuries. Caught up in her concern for his well-being, she didn't notice the look that flashed across his face.  
"Laria, I believe we have matters to discuss." Irving grasped her arms, forcing her to stop what she was doing and look directly up at him. Laria didn't want to see that look again; she didn't think she could stop herself from falling apart if she had to face his disappointment in her one more time. Still she knew she had to take responsibility for her actions, so she would face whatever was to come, from him or the Templars.  
Sensing her anxiety, Irving's demeanour softened. Lifting Laria's chin he looked directly into her eyes.  
"I see no reason for this to become official my child. I'm certain your involvement in Jowan's crimes could be kept between you and I."  
Laria looked puzzled, could it be that Irving would shelter her from this storm, was he actually going to lie for her? She gazed into his pale, aged eyes expecting to see the familiar look of paternal compassion that she had always known him for. Her heart nearly froze instantly, as a disturbing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and it dawned on her his stare was far from paternal.  
"My dear, you have betrayed the circle, you have betrayed me, I cannot simply allow you to remain as you did before. But I believe there is an… arrangement we could make. One that would benefit us both."  
The last remnants of Laria's world crumbled down around her as the implication in Irving's words shattered her innocence. A cold numbness spread rapidly through her slight frame as she bowed her head before the man she'd known as a father figure her entire life. In silence, he led her from the room, and from the person she had once been, left silently screaming from the confines of the past.

* * *

The walk to Irving's office seemed to take an eternity, and yet was over all too soon. Closing and locking the door behind as he entered after Laria, he smiled at her once more, the first smile Laria had never wholeheartedly returned. She stood, dazed in the middle of the room. There was nothing in place of all the emotions she'd felt only minutes before. An empty shell she couldn't even tense up as Irving cupped his hand around her cheek, his other hand tugging her slim waist forward until their bodies met. Pressing himself up against her, she gasped inwardly as she felt his hardening beneath his robes. Still, she remained numb. Somewhere deep inside a voice was begging her to fight, to push him away and to run as fast as she could, but Laria felt only weakness as she limply allowed the First Enchanter to explore her curves. His groping became frenetic as she felt his body begin to tremble from head to toe. Finding the buttons to her robes tracing the line of her spine, he popped them from their clasps until enough were undone to allow her attire to slowly slide from her shoulders and drop to the floor. Irving stepped back enough to take in the sight of her form. His desire apparent in the lecherous way his eyes travelled down her near naked body, it seemed he could contain his lust no longer. Quickly returning to his position against her now exposed skin, he cupped her full breasts in his quivering, wrinkled hands and leant in towards her face with his own. Up until this moment Laria's eyes had been frozen open, not really seeing anything but she was terrified to close them. Now, as his lips hovered over hers, she could taste his musty breath and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Suddenly his mouth was pressed hard against hers, his tongue forcing its way between her lips, scraping against her teeth as it attempted to find her own. With her eyes now closed, it seemed the connection with the brave voice inside her was re-established. With Irving's mouth still forced over hers, a high-pitched scream began to rise from the pit of her stomach, gaining in speed as it found its way up her chest and to her vocal chords. Just as Irving began to lift up his robes ready to position himself between Laria's legs, his body pinning her beneath him up against the wall on the far side of the room, the scream finally found it way out. Before he had a chance to stop her, it reverberated around the office like a mad dog trying to escape.  
Almost without pause, the door to the office burst open, causing Irving to jump, like a startled rabbit, turning to see who had the impertinence to break into his locked room.  
An outraged Duncan stood momentarily in the doorway as he swiftly took in the scene playing out before his horrified eyes. In a flash, the big, dark haired man was dragging the First Enchanter from Laria's body, throwing him effortlessly to the floor and kicking Laria's robes towards her feet all in one adept movement.  
As Laria scrambled to pick up her robes, clutching them tightly over her bare skin, she watched in awe as Duncan towered over his old friend. She could not see his face but his body language told of the intimidating look he was bestowing upon the old man. Duncan's rage remained under control however. His instinct tried to order him to take his dagger and plunge it into the mages chest, but staring down at the pathetic old man slumped on the floor beneath him, his rational side suppressed all else within. He wasn't worth it, he thought as he spat on the old man's robes. Turning his back on Irving, Duncan turned towards Laria, his expression mellowing as he noted the fragility behind her once dancing eyes.  
Laria suddenly remembered her state of undress and with trembling fingers, she awkwardly attempted to gather the fabric of her robe to get dressed without exposing herself to her saviour. Duncan, realising her struggle, turned away to allow her the privacy she was due.  
Her robes once again covering her modesty, Laria gave a small cough and Duncan ceased his glowering at the dishevelled, pitiful shape of Irving still on the floor of the office, stuck fast in his large shadow.  
"Do you wish to leave this place Laria?" Duncan inquired, his voice reassuring, she knew he was offering her salvation. She nodded, her voice seemingly lost once more.  
"Then I hereby conscript you into the order of the Grey Wardens. Come with me now and you need not fear reprisal."  
Laria didn't need to be asked twice, there was nothing left for her within the circle anymore, nothing but death or worse, tranquillity. The man who had saved her was offering her a way out, whatever that meant and she still possessed enough of her personality to make a sensible decision fast.  
Rushing to grasp Duncan's outstretched hand, the two of them exited the room without looking back, leaving the First Enchanter to face his own shame, should he actually have any.  
Laria knew not what would become of her in the days to come but she was sure of one thing, she was no longer a mage of the circle of Ferelden.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This is a VERY short chapter, just because I've so much work going on with writing my first novel and haven't had the time. I had written this bit a while back however, and thought it worth adding. I will more than likely update it so that it resembles an actual chapter more later on. Enjoy!**

With the Circle a day behind them, the silence between Duncan and Laria had grown more strained by the hour. He had attempted pleasantries along the way but they'd been met with an impenetrable wall of silence. Laria's chest felt heavy and her feet ached. Her hair was sticking to her face from getting caught in a rain shower and she was cold. There had been no time as they had fled the circle, to gather belongings or prepare for the journey at all. Duncan seemed oblivious to the harsh Ferelden weather but Laria had never stepped foot outside the tower she'd lived in most of her life and was unaccustomed to the elements.  
As they reached an old Tevinter ruin somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Duncan announced that they would be setting camp for the night. Laria was almost overwhelmed with relief at the thought of sleep. She desired nothing more than to shut out the world, if only for a few hours. Time to stop thinking, for the events of the past to stop playing out over and over in her mind, yes, that would be nice.  
Duncan expected nothing from his companion. He respected her wish not to talk, he was sure the traumatic events she'd experienced would have rendered even the strongest person mute. However, he was concerned about her mental state. It did no one any good to bottle up their emotions this way. He could only hope she would soon come to trust him enough to open up to him, for her own sake.  
For now he busied himself gathering wood for a small fire and, having asked Laria to use magic to light it, he left her huddled on the ground absorbing the welcome warmth, while he disappeared into a small copse of trees to hunt down something to eat.  
Laria stared into the flames, for a time she thought she could see faces dancing within the orange glow. First Cullen, she smiled sadly as she remembered his hands holding hers and the look of love in his eyes. Next Jowan, he still looked tormented yet somehow now, she couldn't bring herself to care. Finally Irving, his face grinned at her lasciviously, it didn't seem to quite fit his features and for a split second Laria questioned if he'd really done what her mind told her he had. Perhaps it was playing tricks on her, maybe… no, she knew he had. She could still taste him in her mouth,. Suddenly the urge to be sick overwhelmed her, rushing to a patch of ground away from the fire she vomited several times, until there was nothing left to purge. As if the act had dislodged some obstruction deep within her soul, clarity began to bleed into the mess inside her head. She felt… something. Anger? Disgust? No, shame. Looking down at her dishevelled robes, her full pert breasts, her torso tapering down to smoothly curved hips, Laria sneered at her own shape. Just then a gust of cool night wind blew against her side, causing her soft black hair to billow out around her shoulders as it did so. Catching the shadow it made against the light of the fire, she felt nothing but revulsion . Quickly scanning the place Duncan had left his pack, she found what she'd been searching for, the small knife he wore at his belt, left out in readiness for preparing their food when he returned. Without a second thought Laria walked over to the knife and picked it up, running her finger deliberately over the sharpened edge, a line of blood surging forth and trickling down over her hand. Sitting crossed legged on the ground, a little too close to the fire, the heat of the flames licked sharply at her skin. She took the knife in her right hand, a length of hair in the other and, using a crude sawing motion, began to hack the beautiful long locks from her head, tossing them into the flames as they came away in her hand.  
When Duncan finally emerged from the trees, two rabbits slung over his shoulder, he could just make out a silhouette in front of the fire. From the small frame it looked like Laria but around the head the hair stuck out at different lengths, jagged and far shorter than hers. The familiar pointed ears were clearly visible too and Duncan couldn't remember being able to see Laria's ears amidst her hair. He was about to confront the stranger, panic setting in as he could see no sign of Laria, when he caught sight of something in the elf's hand. As the figure raised the other hand, holding something else , Duncan recognised his knife and realising what was happening he dropped the rabbits and dashed to the elf he now knew to be Laria. Dropping to his knees behind her , he gasped to see her beautiful long hair now crackling at the edge of the fire. What remained on her head finished about mid way down her neck at it's longest point. Taking hold of her arms from behind, Duncan lowered them and breathed a sigh of relief as she let go of the knife. Almost immediately she began to sob, her whole body trembling as a tear tumbled onto Duncan's hand. Gently he pulled her back to lean into his chest, wrapping his huge arms around her, cradling her like a child. Without word or glance Laria buried her face into the shirt he wore beneath his armour and let herself be embraced. The tears flowed freely then as he held her close, his heart beating beneath her cheek. There in the middle of nowhere, the Grey Warden held the Elven Mage as she cried through the night, releasing her pain until it dyed along with the glowing embers of the fire.


End file.
